


Screaming, Let Me Out

by thephantomrunner



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Blackmail, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Manipulation, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-02-08 18:04:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18628456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thephantomrunner/pseuds/thephantomrunner
Summary: Brian and Roger had been together for a while, but with Queen becoming popular and their main focus being on making music, they haven't told anyone. None of their bandmates know, but Paul Prenter does, and he most definitely will use it to his advantage.





	1. Preface

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this may be a popular concept in the Maylor fandom, but I wanted to write this story anyway! (Even if I'm currently writing five different ones oops) Once again, I saw this prompt on @/bohemian-rhapsody-slash on Tumblr! 
> 
> To clear things up, I have this set like in 1975 at Rockfield or around that time period. (And since its fan fiction, every inaccurate thing I write is for the benefit of the story so pls overlook it lol) 
> 
> Anyway! Please enjoy my wildly mediocre writing!

It had been an accident. 

They both had tried to be so careful. They wouldn’t look at each other, there was always someone in between them, and they sure as hell never touched. 

They had been so careful, that John and Freddie has noticed how careful they were being. They noticed that Roger would turn his back whenever Brian would talk, idly fiddling with something. He would focus on everything but Brian. As for Brian, he would stare at Roger, his eyes focused and his stair intense. However, just as quickly as he had been looking, he’d turn away. 

To be completely honest, it just looked like they had had an argument, which was not out of the norm. Both John and Freddie had assumed they’d had an argument and both were too proud to reconcile just yet. They assumed that Roger was holding a grudge and guessed by the longing look Brian had in his eyes, that he had apologized and desperately had tried to mend things. That’s what usually happened; it wasn’t outlandish to assume such a thing. 

But this had been lasting for   _months_. Months of longing stairs, months of short interactions and months of obvious tension. Their arguments lasted for a week at most, but months? It seemed a little excessive, which made them think something more was happening… 

Both Freddie and John had noticed the obvious sexual tension between their two bandmates, but neither expected that they would ever get it together to do something about it. Brian and Roger were both so emotionally constipated, that it seemed more ridiculous that their relationship had progressed than not. Surprisingly, it hadn’t affected their focus on their music or their sound, so it wasn’t relevant enough to bring up 

That being said, sometimes, when no one was looking Brian’s fingers would ghost over Rogers shoulder, or Rogers eyes would brighten into a smile he saved only for Brian. What they had was sweet, and it was private. Just between them. Though maybe they felt a little guilty keeping a secret from their closest friends, it was better this way and they knew it would come out in time. 

Freddie had officially caught on when Roger has left the pub claiming illness. Their gig had been successful- so successful that even Brian had enthusiastically accompanied them out afterward. This only aided in perpetuating Freddie’s confusion when Brian jumped up, volunteering to accompany Roger home. If Freddie has blinked he would’ve missed the smile that ghosted the curve of Rogers lips. 

When they had left, John had cleared his throat, announcing that he was happy they were talking again. Freddie could only smirk in return. 

Any physical ailments Roger had been complaining about before magically vanished when they had arrived back home. He aggressively pressed himself to Brian who was fumbling with his pockets to find his keys. He turned, sticking the metal into the door while Roger persistently littered his neck with soft kisses. 

Once inside, Brian leaned down, catching Rogers lips in his own. Roger responded by reaching up, wrapping his arm around Brians neck which only caused the taller man to bend lower. Brian broke the kiss, just as it had been intensifying, by turning back to the door to shut it. Roger whined, as Brian fumbled to lock the door. Roger could see the points of his canines when his lips turned up into a smile. He thought it was beautiful. 

Brian’s long fingers struggled to separate the metal keys and Roger let out a frustrated sigh. 

“Just leave it,” He breathed into Brian’s shoulder from behind “We’ll be fine,” 

“Roger...,” Brian complained as the other man took the keys and tossed them on the counter. Once Brians hands were free, Roger went right back to unzipping his jacket and pressing kisses against his neck. “Rog, wait,,” Brain laughed slightly as lips tickled his skin. Roger didn’t stop. 

“What about-” 

“Fuck him,” Roger cut Brian off, already knowing what he was going to say. He knew he was about to bring up that useless fuck- Paul Prenter- up, and his night had been going so well he didn’t want the mention of his name to ruin it. 

“Rog,” Brian insisted and Roger pulled away with a huff. Brian quickly tacked on a suggestion; “Let’s go upstairs-” he wasn’t sure how much of his sentence Roger had listened to before tugging him upstairs and into his room. This time Brian didn’t protest when Roger pressed their lips together, shedding his own jacket and messily tossing it to the floor. 

It had been an accident- but if he had used the same caution or had been as tentative as he had been trying to lock the door, he would’ve heard Prenter open it with ease and call out for Freddie. When he got no response, he moved further into the room, eventually scouring the entire floor before realizing that there was someone upstairs. 

Maybe it was because his footsteps were soft, like the slithering of a snake or maybe it was because both of them were lost in a passionate haze of sweat, sloppy kisses and moans of pleasure. Either way, the fact that a third presence had joined them went amiss. 

The footsteps of Paul Prenter stopped a few feet in front of the open bedroom and a small smile graced his lips. Had he not see them, he would’ve assumed that Roger had brought some girl home- something that wasn’t completely out of character for him. But the smirk had appeared because he saw the mop of curly hair, he could hear the voice, knew of the tension between them. 

He watched in amusement as Brian lay on his back, his head leaning back and his mouth agape while Roger sat atop him, his blonde hair falling around his face and his hips rolling steadily. 

Anyone else would’ve been disgusted, or embarrassed at the prospect of walking in on two people they knew having sex but Paul Prenter was not ‘anyone else’ 

It had been an accident but, oh boy, was Prenter going to run _wild_ with this.


	2. Drowse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! Thanks for sticking with me (I’m so sorry I’m so bad at updating) and thanks for the comments and kudos! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)

He wasn’t exactly sure what he was feeling when he stood frozen with something semblant of shock. In all honesty, he knew that he shouldn’t be feeling as surprised as he was- he should’ve seen it coming and that the signs were all there. He always thought of himself as perceptive, watching the events fold out in front of him in the shadows. Maybe he wasn’t as perceptive as he thought he was. 

He’d always thought himself to be introspective as well, but he couldn’t quite put a finger on the emotions bubbling in his chest. He couldn’t be jealous because there was nothing to be jealous of; the fiery blonde, the lanky brunette and their little rock band called Queen. It wasn’t anger- he had nothing to be angry for either. But something did spark in him. Or maybe he was denying his feelings: maybe the jealousy was because he knew that who he wanted would never kiss him that way. And perhaps the anger was towards these two people unknowingly having sex in front of him. Maybe the anger was because they would both do everything in their power to stop him from engaging in any kind of relationship with their bandmare. 

He knew that three out of the four members of the little rock band called Queen, didn’t like him. And it was fine- he was used to being disliked. His own family wasn’t partial to him, so what others thought of him never bothered him. In fact, it seemed to only egg him on more. Every sideways glance from John, every sign Brian emitted at the mention of his name or everytime Roger told him to be quiet, it only fueled his fire, amusing him greatly, making him want to cause harm. 

He hated none of them, he refused to waste energy enough to hate them. But he did enjoy watching them squirm, making them uncomfortable. He loved the sight of Roger’s face turn red as he angrily tried to think of a rebuttal, or Brian’s face turning sheet white when threatened with facts against him. 

He had complete leverage over this situation, and for his amusement- and perhaps a bit of revenge- he intended to use it freely. 

♛♛♛

Brian lazily ran his fingers along Rogers back, his eyes focused on the cracks in the white ceiling. Rogers cheek was pressed unceremoniously against Brian’s chest, his lips parted in a way that only Roger Taylor could make look adorable. His breath was somewhat irregular, letting him know that he was somewhat conscious even though his eyes were closed as if he was trying to ward off the rest of the day. 

Brian curled his fingers through Rogers hair “Good morning,” he murmured. Roger groaned in response; Brian figured he must be dozing off. 

“There is absolutely nothing good about the morning,” his voice was muffled and laced with sleep. Brain was grateful to see the light rays of sun beginning to stretch through the bedroom window; At night he was left with his thoughts, and they weren’t always positive. He was prone to worry, to overthinking everything. He had gotten around two hours of sleep last night, and it wasn’t because of the activities he and Roger were engaging in. 

Whenever he and Roger has sex it was amazing- Roger was amazing- and last night wasn’t an exception, but he found his mind was somewhere else. He was distracted and almost paranoid and he couldn’t figure out why. He had an idea, the change in environment, maybe. They were doing so well, his life was going so well, but something about last night left him wildly unsettled. It especially bothered him that he didn’t know why- he wanted answers for as many things as he could. To say he felt as though he was being watched would be hyperbolic and dramatic, that was a sort of thing that only happened in films.

He shook his head, it was too early and he was too tired for his thoughts to consume him. He decided to focus on Roger. In theory, the night and the early morning should be his favorite part of the day; it was the only time he was allowed to be with Roger this way. Their evenings were spent behind closed doors, clothes carelessly discarded on the floor, and passion riddling their movements. Their early mornings were spent in gentle touches and soft conversation until the sunlight prompted Brian to quit Rogers room and enter his own before anyone else was awake. Brian hated his room. It was cold, the springs in the bed were ridiculously loud and it felt lonely without Roger. He did his best to stave off the day, soaking up every moment, wrapped in Rogers love. 

His thoughts were interrupted by Rogers pressing his fingers to Brian’s forehead. The touch startled him, but it was soft and gentle; he thought that Roger had been dozing back to sleep. His fingers gently smoothed the frown that Brian hadn’t even noticed was on his face. 

“You’re frowning,” Roger explained softly. “You never stop thinking. What are you thinking about?” His voice sounded like he was only half conscious, but his eyes were looking at Brian curiously. His finger trailed lazily along Brian’s jaw. 

“Just about you. Nothing out of the ordinary,” He took Rogers hand, kissing the back of it thoughtfully. Roger beamed up at him before humming.

“I love you,” he said. Brian mumbled the words back, meaning every one, though he wasn’t entirely focused. Neither one of them had to speak ever again, and they would both be perfectly content with each other. He held Roger close to his body, his thumb making small circles on his biceps; he had fallen back to sleep. His jaw was slack and his fist relaxed over Brian’s chest. Brian loved watching Roger sleep- it was a stark contrast between when he was awake, but he was just as vibrant. 

When Brian shifted slightly, Rogers grip on his waist tightened, refusing to let him get up. “I don’t want to get up,” Roger pouted. Brian was aware that they were both fully conscious now and the sun was glaring through their room intensely. It was telling them it was probably time to get up. He slid out of bed, heading towards his own room, ignoring Rogers complaints to ‘stay with him’. 

He smiled fondly to himself. He was so in love. It was ridiculous. 

His thoughts had him wide awake, but he wanted nothing more than to curl up under a blanket, with Roger pressed against him. He often thought about what would happen if he and Roger ever came out, sometimes he thought it would make everything easier. He wasn’t afraid about what their friends would say- he knew that they were all accepting and progressive. The problem was with the rest of the world- their parents, their family, their fans and management. He didn’t want to think about any of that. They were just starting to get big- this is what they all wanted, what Roger wanted. He wouldn’t ruin that for him. 

Still, sometimes the secrecy wore him out.

He walked into the small cramped bathroom, turning the water on. He ran his hands under the cool stream, splashing it on his face, hoping to jolt any remaining sleep out of his system. 

Assuming the quiet in the house was because Roger was asleep, Brian wandered into the kitchen. He was pleased to find that it was desolate, calming him even more; It meant that he and Roger had the quiet morning to themselves. They had probably gone out for breakfast, or they had gone to the studio. He decided to make coffee knowing that he would need the extra caffeine to get through the rest of the day. He also poured a cup for Roger, knowing that he would probably be grouchy about having to be at the studio so early today. How the morning went dictated how the rest of the day would go and he really didn’t want to deal with an irritable Roger. 

 

After throwing a few pieces of toast on a plate, he returned to Rogers room, once again admiring the still, peaceful morning: without their bandmates, without noise- just them silently appreciating the others company. It was a stillness that came rarely, but when it did it was cherished; It was a rarity and it was beautiful. However, it was a calmness that wouldn’t last forever. 

It was the calm before the storm, before everything came crashing down on them.


	3. Everybody Loves a Winner, Nobody Loved Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone whose reads thus far! Also comments and kudo’s mean so much so thanks to everyone who leaves them!
> 
> Also it’s like 3 am, please excuse any mistakes, I try my best to proof! DX
> 
> Anyway, you guys like this! :)

Roger sloppily gathered his sheet music into a messy pile, setting his drumsticks down with frustration. To say that today’s practice was rough, would be a wild understatement. They hadn’t been arguing, but the tension in the room was palpable, enough to make anyone who entered uncomfortable. John had been the first to throw in the towel, stating that they were all tired and they would get absolutely nothing done with the state they were in. Brian agreed, refusing to meet Rogers eyes; he wondered what he was thinking. Freddie had sighed reluctantly, silently storming out of the studio, leaving his sheet music in a scattered disarray. While John gently tucked his base away, Brian walked up to Roger, placing his hand on his shoulder. He gave it a soft squeeze and Roger resisted the urge to shrug it off, especially in front of their friends. “I’ll see you later,” and with that he hung up his guitar, closing the door behind him. 

Roger put his face in his hands, frustrated with himself and the situation he was placed in. 

“Roger,” John’s soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts before they could run wild 

“Yeah, Deaky?” His voice was muffled as his hands still covered his face. When he looked up he noticed how tired Roger looked. 

“Will you be okay, Rog?” His gray eyes held Roger’s gaze and he couldn’t look away. His question could be taken one of two ways: if he left Roger alone at the studio, would he be okay by himself- or, in general, would Roger be okay? Roger was only sure of one of the answers to the question, but instead he nodded, with hopes of looking convincing. He had never been a very good actor. 

“Yeah, I’ll be okay.” He offered John a smile, which seemed to be enough to push the other man out of the door. 

Roger had never given much thought about his actions. Of course he was cautious and somewhat conscientious in certain situations and he knew his audience, but often times his filter was turned off. He didn’t spend his time replaying an event over and over- that was until he got romantically involved with Brian. Brian could often be found lost in a book or in his own thoughts. He could sit there for hours on end, just thinking. Roger found it fascinating; the way his brow would furrow slightly, and his teeth would gnaw at his lips until they were red. His eyes would become distant, and there would be absolutely no point in trying to have a conversation with him- even so, Roger found him beautiful. 

Maybe he had rubbed off on Roger in the sense that the other man was so lost in his thoughts he couldn’t focus during practice. He and Brian weren’t really fighting, their conversation earlier in the morning had gone stale when it ventured the territory of their relationship. Roger was almost never insecure in his relationships, he always understood his place and never doubted his worth- in fact, it was usually the other person he left feeling that way (of course it wasn’t intentional, it was just a side effect of being so gorgeous) The fact that he was still thinking about the conversation, about Brian, scared him. He was Roger Taylor, he should be out rocking on his drums, partying and seducing beautiful women. Instead, he was mulling over his feelings for his best friend and probable love of his life. 

They rarely had serious arguments, they did over little things, but never anything that would stick for more than a few minutes. They had been stationed on the sofa, Roger was tucked under Brains arm as he read a book. His eyelids had been drooping, but they snapped awake as soon as he heard the door open and Brian shoved him off of him probably a bit harder than he needed to. Roger had glared at him as soon as John had passed through the room, heading to his bedroom in the basement. He offered them a smile, noticing the tension that seemed to float around Brian and Roger perpetually. 

Roger had no problem with their closest friends, Freddie and John, knowing about their relationship. In fact, he wanted then to know- he thought it would make everything so much easier. Brian always took a holy route, saying that he didn’t want to break up the band, or that he didn’t want to ruin Roger’s chances of living his dreams and becoming loved and famous. Most people would find it sweet, but Roger thought it was absolute bullshit; why couldn't the band stay together, he become rich and famous and have a relationship with Brian? The scariest part was he was willing to give up the fame, and money, hell even the band if he had to choose between it or Brian. It will always be Brian. He didn’t know how he could get the other man to understand that. 

He remembered hissing something to his lover, who in return, hissed something back. Their argument was quiet, and brief, but that doesn’t mean that Roger didn’t end it by raising his voice and yelling a few curses at him and stomping out of the room. Before they had begun their practice, Brian's eyes had met his across the room, giving him a discreet smile. It was a non verbal apology essentially, that became all but null as soon as Freddie looked at him. Brian quickly went back to ignoring Roger, the source of their argument in the first place. 

He signed. He saw how easy it was to get caught up in thinking- he didn’t like it at all. His thoughts were all over the place, finally coming together, when a voice broke them.

“Fancy seeing you here by yourself” the tone was almost mocking, teasing. 

Roger immediately bristled, sitting up straight and balling his hands into fists. The sound of his voice was like nails on a chalkboard, and his eyes constantly shifting like those of a rat. His presence was enough to make Roger dry heave.He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “What do you want, Paul?” his voice came out sounding more tired than he hoped it would. 

“I just mean, it’s funny seeing you without your better half,” His better half. Brian. Roger couldn’t hold back from rolling his eyes this time, even though he knew Paul wanted to get under his skin. One thing he never understood is how Freddie managed to tolerate the man. He was absolutely insufferable and made Roger want to rip his own eyes out. 

“And what does that mean?” he stood up, ready to leave the studio at last. He would much rather finish his conversation with Brian about telling their friends about their relationship than be anywhere with Paul Prenter, ever. He tucked his drumsticks in his pocket, carefully hoping off the platform that the drums rested on. 

Prenter didn’t falter. He hadn’t moved from his spot in the doorway, but his eyes darted around the room before resting comfortably on Rogers figure- they followed his every movement. Roger noticed this, and it caused an unfamiliar feeling of anxiety wash over him. “Oh, Roger” his voice had the same taunting lilt. God, he fucking hated his voice. “You’re not as dumb as everybody thinks you are. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” 

He knew that this could be some kind of sick reverse psychology that he was using on him, or was just blowing hot air to get a rise out of him, but something in him knew exactly what Paul was getting at. It was almost as if he was reading Rogers mind when their eyes met, and all of his thoughts were transferred to the other man's head. Somehow on this unholy earth, Paul had found out about his relationship with Brian. His stomach churned. 

“Paul,” he said warningly. 

“Roger,” Paul said in the same tone, but mockingly. 

“Prenter, what do you want? ” his voice was beginning to take on a frantic edge, “You have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. I know you don’t. You never do.” The statement back seemed like it was more of a comfort to Roger than a jab at Paul’s intelligence. 

“You left the door open the other night,” Paul shut the door to ensure that nobody would hear the conversation they were about to have. 

Roger’s face paled thinking about a couple nights ago when he and Brian had left early, only to fuck in his room. 

“It was a delightful show,” Paul began, clasping his hand as he began to recount what he had seen that night, “I understand why you’re so incredibly good in the higher register,” 

“I... have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Roger denied 

“You have every idea what I’m talking about,” He insisted. “Maybe you’ve forgotten? I can recount it for you! Mmm, I think it went something like, ‘oh Brian, yes, ri-“ Roger was quick to cut him off, his face flush red. Part from embarrassment, part from rage.

“You sick bastard ,what the hell do you want?” Roger stalked towards him, his fist curling into tight balls. It was taking everything in him not to throw a punch at Prenters smug face. 

Paul completely ignored the man standing in front of him, ignored the anger and fear in his eyes as well as the defensive stance he was in. “You know, I know you don’t like me. Which is fine- I don’t like you either- you’ve tried to poison your entire band against me. I’m not sure what I’ve done-” 

“You’re a fucking snake, and the fact that we’re even having this conversation right now, proves my point” He knew that Paul had a thing for Freddie and it made him sick. He loved Freddie, and he would do almost anything to protect him, especially from a serpent like Paul. So that was why Prenter didn’t like Roger- he could see through his act and past his charm. He saw the way he lived on the edge and he didn’t need Freddie to get sucked into it. Roger moved quickly to the door, wanting nothing more than to talk to his bandmates and managers and get Prenter fired. However, Paul was faster, getting up in time to block Roger from opening the door. 

“I think you make a lovely couple, even if you both hate me. But” he tapped the doorknob, in faux concentration. The room was completely silent, and it was maddening. “I’m not sure the rest of the world would think so. Actually, I’m quite sure they wouldn’t. How would they react when they heard that Roger Taylor, sex symbol and drummer extraordinaire, was shagging a man? That, that man, was Brian May, another member of the up and coming rock band Queen. How would they react to know that this band, that they love so much, was just a bunch of fucking fairies?” Roger absolutely deplored that word. He swallowed, but his mouth had run dry. “You’d be destroyed before you even started,” there was that stupid, stupid smirk gracing his thin lips

“What do you want from me, Paul? What do you what me to do” he was exasperated, and was so close to relenting to doing whatever Paul wanted to gain out of this conversation. 

“Well, you can buy my silence; did you know you can buy anything in this world, Roger” Roger didn’t have the energy to dispute that ridiculous statement. 

“What do you want from me?” He repeated that statement again, his mind wondering to Brian and what he might be doing right now. The tapping on the doorknob filled the silent room once more, driving Rogers mind further into insanity. “Just tell me what the fuck you want, Prenter!” He didn’t even try to keep the anger and frustration out of his voice. 

“I don’t think you’re in much of a position to be demanding things of me, Rog” his lips twitched mockingly and Roger felt livid and completely hopeless. He wasn’t going to make this easy for him. 

“I won’t tell anyone that you’re shagging Brian if,” he paused and looked to the ceiling, as if he didn’t already have the statement sitting in his brain. “If you agree to stay away from Freddie,”

Roger thought for a moment before laughing. It was a forced, dry sound, resembling a cry more than laughter. “Why would I do that?” He shook his head at the ridiculousness of it all “What the fuck does that even mean? We’re in a band, we live together. I see him every fucking day- it’s damn near impossible to stay away from him, even when I’m pissed at him” 

“Well” Once again, he pretended to think about it “You’ll find a way. You’ll find a way or the entire world will know about you and Brian. That half of their favorite group- sex symbol, ladies man Roger Taylor, no less- are nothing but a bunch of fags. Really, its your choice. Completely up to you.” He shrugged, finally twisting the doorknob and leaving the room. 

He left Roger staring after him, with his heart even heavier than it had been earlier. He wasn’t left alone with his thoughts for more than thirty seconds when Prenters head reappeared. “Oh and Roger? If you tell anyone about this- Brian or Freddie- I can take your career, Brian- everything away. You know I can” his voice probably didn’t sound as threatening as he was hoping for, but it still made Roger shiver. 

He wanted nothing more than to curl up, in Brian’s embrace and to let his thought get lost in his love.

♛♛♛

Brian’s arm resting around his waist provides him with a sense of security that had been missing since his conversation with Paul. 

Roger had always felt an intense distrust of Prenter, and to tell him to distance himself from Freddie only confirmed this feeling. From the moment they had met, Prenter had been ogling Freddie and Roger had taken immediate note. Halting every rendezvous that Prenter has proposed, refusing to leave them in the same room together for more than ten seconds; Freddie was his best friend and he would do almost anything to protect him.

He hated to think that Prenter had anything over him, that he was essentially powerless. Roger knew of John’s dislike for him as well, since he had addressed him as “just the bassist”. Brian also wasn’t too fond of him , but he had never verbalized his disdain. Between the three of them, Roger had felt a power over Prenter. He knew that Freddie would never agree to get rid of him, but he had Brian and John in his corner so Freddie was outweighed. Now, he couldn’t even threaten to sack Paul because he knew of his relationship with Brian. Any attorney he had over any situation was gone and he hated it. The roles were reversed. He felt naked, powerless and silenced. There was no chance of getting rid of Paul, he would take Freddie and their group would fall apart; or, they got rid of Paul, he outed he and Brian … and their group still fell apart. It seemed like a dead end; damned if you don’t, damned if you do. 

“Now you’re the one thinking too hard, love,” Brian pressed a kiss to Rogers forehead. It was a nod to the many times Roger had told Brian to live in the present, not to let his thoughts run wild. 

Roger didn’t have anything to say back to his lover. Instead he closed his eyes, letting the tension in his forehead ease. Brian, however, was unsatisfied with the silence and decided to add softly “What’s got you worrying?” Roger knew that replying with silence would only cause Brian to worry as well. He didn’t need Brian knowing about Paul. He didn’t want Brian knowing about his conversation with Paul. He wasn’t particularly worried about what Paul would do to Brian, or vice versa, if he found out- but still having their secret being kept made him feel more in control. It was a convoluted way of thinking perhaps, as really Paul was in absolute control, but the thought still put him a bit more at ease. 

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he finally said, unsure of where their conversation was going to end up.

“For what? You’ve done nothing wrong.” There was a silence as Brian gathered his words, but it wasn't uncomfortable “I thought it was better this way… but it’s… not. And I’m sorry for thinking I could control this Rog.”

Brian shifted a little, causing Roger to relocate his head lower in his chest. He could feel his heart beating faster, but he wasn’t sure why. Between his shallow breath and his increasing heartbeat, Roger began to think that maybe Prenter had spoken with him as well.

“I think we should tell them, Rog,” Brain finally said, his voice soft. Despite the soft and gentle lilt in Brian’s voice, his words sent Rogers heart racing, causing him to bolt upright. 

“What??” he hissed. When he received no response he almost yelled; “Brian, you want to what?” 

“Roger, shh,” Brian tried to soothe him before continuing, “Not the fans, or even our parents. Just Freddie and John. I’m not sure much would change, but I think if we continue the way we are- ignoring each other- we’ll end up worse off.”

Roger was shaking his head furiously throughout the whole speech. “No, absolutely not. Not now, at least.” He caught the slightly confused look on Brian’s face. After all, it had been Roger who had wanted to tell their bandmates in the first place “Bri, you just don’t understand.”

Brian searched Rogers tired eyes for some sort of logical answer. “ Then help me understand, Rog, I love you. I want you to be happy,” 

Roger sighed, melting at how sweet Brian could be. He pressed a soft kiss to his lips before resuming his former position with his head on Brian’s chest. “I love you too. He- well… we just can’t. Not now.”

The same silence that has been plaguing them all day filled the room before Roger pulled away and moved to the edge of the bed. 

“I’m really tired- I think we should head to bed. I think you should sleep in your room tonight.” He said softly, out of the blue.

“Rog…” Brian made no movement to leave, confusion still coloring his features. If Roger didn’t look so distraught, he would’ve jokingly checked his temperature- he had never asked Brian to leave. 

“I’m not mad or anything... I just… want to be alone,” when Brian still didn't move Roger whispered, “I need to be alone. Please,” 

With reluctance Brian finally stood up, leaning over to kiss Roger before he departed. He felt uneasy leaving him alone, especially like this. 

“You know where I’ll be if you need anything,” he looked rather dejected, and Roger almost felt bad. 

Once the door shut he heard the quiet shuffling in the hallway and the creaking of Brian’s door being opened. 

His thoughts were a mess, everything was confused; Prenter was in his head. He needed to separate from Freddie- and maybe Brian too. 

He signed shedding a single tear he’d been refusing to acknowledge as he finally drifted out of consciousness.


	4. We Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and willkomenn fremderrr,, 
> 
> This is kinda a filler chapter, the next chapter is where everything will kinda kick in and become (hopefully) interesting. 
> 
> I hope you're finding this story enjoyable please let me know what you think in the comments, it means a lot. (Please be merciful- I don’t have a beta and it’s 4:48 am rn)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like this chapter :)

“There he is,” Brian exclaimed, turning his attention from the pot of soup he was stirring to Roger, who had just entered the room. “Welcome, Sleeping Beauty, we’ve missed you,” John remarked, his tone gentle and joking, but Roger just wasn’t in the mood. He took a seat at the kitchen island next to Deaky, who had his fingers curled around a cup of tea. 

“Piss off,” he muttered to both of them, his smile growing and mood lightening when Brian laughed a bit. Brian’s laugh was infectious. He turned to Deaky, giving him a friendly smile- he feared it might have looked more like a grimace- and a nod. “Hi Deaky,” 

“Hey, Rog,” John’s voice was soft, and there was something about the way he said the greeting, that made Roger think he was concerned about him- or perhaps he was just in deep thought. “How are you feeling?” Roger only shrugged in response, not in the mood to talk about himself “Never better,” he cleared his throat, ignoring the look he saw Brian and John discreetly share. “But you were talking abut a song you wrote, John. Don’t let me stop you- continue,”

Brian and John continued their conversation from before Roger came in, but Brian’s eyes lingered heavily on him, making sure Roger was aware that they would be having a conversation later. He was aware of the time, in fact he had barely gotten any sleep. He knew if Brian had stayed in his room that at least he would’ve been wrapped in his warm embrace and love and could’ve fallen asleep at some point. Restlessly, but asleep, nevertheless. He had asked Brian to leave his room in a clouded state of mind, wanting nothing more than to cry- and he refused to do it in front of Brian. He had never really been afraid of his masculinity, to experiment with colors and makeup and clothes- because honestly, fuck that. He didn’t have the time to bring himself to be concerned with what others thought of him. He knew crying didn’t make him any less masculine, but sometimes he felt that being with Brian did. He refused to cry in front of Brian. When he felt the tears burn the back of his eyes, he had sprung up and requested his solitude. He knew Brian wouldn’t care, but it had everything to do with his pride. 

Prenters words were plaguing his mind. He had slept for an hour before he was awoken and proceeded to lie in bed. He had spent the entire night thinking about how he would get out of this situation. The morning and rolled in and he was still lying on his back, tear tracks dried on his cheeks, at a loss of what to do. So he sat up, washed his face and retreated back into his room. When Brian had knocked a few times to check on him, he feigned sleep or lied that he had a headache. 

In truth he had poured his confused feelings into song lyrics, drum beats turning over and over in his mind. He wasn’t sure how he was going to go about ignoring Freddie Mercury, but if he didn’t want their career to end before it began, he would find a way. Speaking of Freddie… 

“Where’s Freddie?” He cleared his throat, his voice rough as if he had just woken up. 

John’s bead snapped towards Roger, surprised that he had interjected and broken his silence. He didn’t answer him, just quietly searched his face with a thoughtful intuitive expression. It was rather unnerving.

“He went out,” Brian said, pulling a mug from the small cabinet .

“Oh,” Roger looked down at his hands, running his thumb over the callouses. “By himself?” He had asked, but he feared he already knew the answer. 

He ignored the way that John sucked in a breath next to him before answering “With Paul,” 

“With Paul…” he repeated to no one in particular. “And neither of you went with them… because?” 

“My idea of a good time isn’t exactly going out with Paul and Freddie doing god knows what,” Brian whispered, a light hearted tone in his voice. His eyes were focused as his hands ensured that the steaming water made a careful transition from the kettle to the mug he had pulled from the cupboard. 

“I wasn’t in the mood,” John responded, “Freddie went up to see if you wanted to come, but I think you were asleep,” 

Rogers lips formed the shape of an ‘O’ he must’ve actually fallen back asleep because he remembered absolutely none of that. Even if he had been conscious when Freddie had invited him to go with he and Paul, it seems he would’ve been breaking the unofficial deal between he and Paul and would’ve had to decline anyway. His heart ached a little. He kind of wanted to get absolutely shitfaced with his best friend, right about now. 

“They’ll be fine,” Brian said, but it sounded like he was trying to reassure himself more than anything. He wondered over, putting the mug he had poured in front of Roger. 

“Did you put sugar in it?” He asked. Brian only rolled his eyes, a smiling tugging at his lips nonetheless. 

“Yes, Roger”

“No, the right amount of sugar,” he persisted. Once again, Brian peered into the cup, rolling his eyes. He leaned against the counter, mentally recalling how many sugar cubes he’d added as Roger lifted the cup to his lips. “I’m joking,” he remarked “it’s fucking perfect,” he laughed quietly, standing up and pressing his lips gently to Brian’s. “Thank you,” 

Brian was a bit caught off guard by the gesture, frozen at the sight of John in his peripheral view. “Fuck,” he murmured, cheeks tinted red as quickly turning back to cooking dinner. 

Roger was confused for a moment before his internal panic kicked in. How do I explain why I kissed my best mate? Really there was no logical explanation and Roger didn’t have time to reconcile with that. His mind was racing at millions of miles an hour and he knew for a fact, if this had been any other day, he never would have done anything as nonsensical as that. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw John’s eyebrow raised and his eyes wide; he wasn’t getting out of this one. He decided that he would try anyway. 

“Um,” he began “He had… flour? Yeah, flour on his face,” When he turned to face John he noticed that his eyes had slimmed and his lips had curled into a teasing smirk. 

“Stop it, Rog” Brian muttered at the same time John flatly remarked “Flour,”. Roger couldn’t see Brian’s face, but be could only image the blush that coated his long, pale face.

“It’s okay, I don’t care,” John finally shrugged “We figured this would happen at some point,” 

Brian turne around quickly, soup spilling out of the bowl he was filling “We?” his voice came out higher pitched than normal. 

“Freddie and I,” he was so nonchalant about it that Roger could have laughed. Brian wiped a towel over the small puddle of soup he had spilled, “Does anyone else know? Or at least suspect….” 

John quickly shook his head, his hair moving with it. “Paul you mean? Unless Freddie told him what he thought, then no, just us” 

Brina seemed to relax at that but Rogers stomach twisted and he suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore. The stress was back, and in full force. The feelings of dread began to resurface and he stood up abruptly. 

“Roge-” John started, 

“It’s okay John, I’m just a bit tired. I’ll eat tomorrow,” He reassured Brian, even though his brain was screaming at him to eat something. Brian looked concerned, like he was going to follow him or try to argue, but he didn’t. Instead he finished pouring the soup into bowls and took a seat next to John, nodding in resignation. 

Roger decided to wait in Brians room; they usually slept in Rogers room because the springs in Brian’s bed were so fucking loud and obnoxious and the last thing either of them wanted to hear in their tender moments. Knowing Brian, he would come to his own room, change his clothes before turning into Rogers room. So, Roger made himself as comfortable as he could, the springs creaking loudly and the hard matress prodding at his back. 

He needed to talk to Brian, but he knew he couldn’t- especially with Prenters threats looming over his head.. But if John and Freddie suspected, then maybe others had suspected too. That would make everything a whole lot easier. 

Either way, all he wanted was to sleep away his problems and for Paul Prenter to drop off of the face of the planet.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! Come talk to me on Tumblr if you'd like :) [here](https://bismilah-bullshit.tumblr.com)


End file.
